


Casting Shadows

by impish_nature



Series: Lighthouse Keeper AU [4]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Gen, Lighthouse Keeper AU, Nightmares, Sleep Deprivation, Sleepwalking, Warning: intrusive thoughts, warning: suicidal ideation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-12-08 06:00:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11640414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impish_nature/pseuds/impish_nature
Summary: Lighthouse Keeper AUStan wakes up in very precarious predicament.





	Casting Shadows

**Author's Note:**

> AN: You shall pry this AU from me when Ran stops making cool art in it… So that may take a long while. (Also woo~ Something to post ♥)
> 
> Based on this http://sightkeeper.tumblr.com/post/163451777593/sleepwalking-lighthouse-keeper-au-this-was

_That's it. Just one more step._

The words filtered through like sand through an hourglass, whisked away by the wind ruffling his hair and barely stirring his consciousness. He hummed thoughtfully, a deep groan of disappointment echoing through him as he returned to consciousness, as the thick blanket of sleep pulled away from him and he wished for nothing more than to wrap himself further up in his warm cocoon and pretend the world didn't exist.

The world refused however, his eyebrows furrowing in despair as the blankets slipped further and further away from him even as he adamantly scrunched up his eyes in defiance. He must have left a window open, the cold billowing up and biting through his bones as the warmth he longed for fell away from him entirely. Had he kicked it all off some when in the night? Probably, it wouldn't be the first time his tossing and turning had tangled him in knots or found him face down on the floor.

Frankly, out of the options, this was probably the better alternative, at least he wouldn't have a bruise to show for this one.

At least it was still dark. His body relaxed slightly as no light cut through the shield his eyelids had created to force him to accept reality and its call to return to the land of the living. The darkness shrouding him relieved him, calmed his disappointed waking mind, even as the cold made him shudder and bit deep into his palms. He must have been having a nightmare before all this, he couldn't seem to get his fists to unhook themselves from the cold bed frame, clinging on for dear life against whatever his mind had thrown at him.

At least it was dark. There was still time to sleep more, too worn out to think about dragging himself to the lighthouse to continue his work there throughout the night. He had to rest, had to give himself some short moments of peace so he didn't burn out entirely and fall apart at the seams. 

Just this once he could reconcile with that thought, no swirling guilt of a night missed, of precious seconds slipping away from him as he slept.

He was no use to his brother passing out later on. He'd sleep when he could get it, just this once. He was sure Ford would understand that.

He just needed to calm down, needed to breathe and figure out what the nightmare had been, figure out what was keeping him so solidly locked in place. It was probably something to do with the cold. He needed to get up, groan and curse through the interruption and then drop back into blissful oblivion, anything to shut his mind back off before it turned on him again.

But opening his eyes even when he knew there was no light to blind him still sounded like a monumental task he wasn't willing to concede to yet.

Maybe if he powered through it, he'd be able to just force himself to sleep regardless...

_Just one more step, that's all it takes..._

The dregs of his dream rose up to greet him once more. No images, no real feel for it, just the drive to move forward, to keep going, to take that final step and push through until everything he'd worked towards finally came to fruition. He felt himself sink once more into the haze, though it didn't feel quite the same, his brain fighting the impulse to sleep even as his exhausted body yearned for its embrace.

It felt like it should be so easy. There was no fear, no nightmare like he assumed, the dream felt calm and tranquil. A false lull of warmth slipping over his mind even as his body shuddered, his teeth chattering.

He didn't know whether to curse or sob at the contradictions. His brain powering on more and more and rebuking the beckoning beacon of peaceful slumber as if it was a trap, whereas his body, locked and frozen in the ice cold draught seeping under his door and whistling through the open window, longed to push past it and relax into nothingness, boneless and weary.

But it was just too cold now. He needed to get up, needed to close the window and bundle himself back up again. Sleeping without would be the death of him, he knew it would. No matter how much he tried to curl inwards, to cover himself with every spare piece of clothing and fabric he had, he knew that he needed to get warm and quickly, he needed to think through the frost that was making it hard to move his fingers and toes and deal with the repercussions no matter what other struggles he'd face because of it. He knew what he had to do, no matter how much he told himself he couldn't afford to turn on the heater in the car-

_You're not in your car._

The words whispering through his skull took a while to make an impact. The rest of his mind tail-spinning and splicing off into tangents.

_I know it'll make it harder turning on the heater but this can't end here. I can't give up, not until Ford's back safe and sound-  
You're not in your car. And if you were Ford would still be safe and sound._

The words left a daunting silence in their wake, cutting through the tendrils of his thoughts and leaving gashing, blossoming sparks of pain deep in his core as his mind broke free of the haze of sleep and tore him back down to reality in one fell swoop.

He always had been his own worst enemy, of course he'd give himself a bumpy landing back to Earth for even thinking about resting for a night instead of working towards getting Sixer home.

But something still didn't connect, the voice of reason short-circuiting even as the shortcomings and doubts loomed above like a storm cloud.

_...Then where am I?_

Stan struggled past the sleep sticking his eyelids firmly together, mind raging and warring over giving back into sleep and giving up on it altogether. He knew where he was. In bed, in the Mystery Shack, with only his own mind to torment him and deny him the blissful slumber he required. He needed sleep, he needed to ignore the voice that he knew was there below the surface ready to snarl and bite at him from the inside out. 

He just needed to ignore  _it_  and the cold seeping into his bones and turn his back on the world for a little while longer. 

Sure, he was shivering but it was nothing like what he'd dealt with before, regardless of his distraught exhaustion telling him otherwise.

But if it would give him some peace of mind perhaps it was worth it. Perhaps it was worth giving up and opening his eyes if it meant there would be a chance of sleep in just a few more moments.

_Just one more step, get out of bed, close the window and curl back up again. That's all it would take._

He shook his head, another long suffering sigh billowing out of him. He could hear the logic behind it, as much as he hated to admit it. All he needed to do was stand up and then he could have the respite he needed-

His breath caught in his throat, another piece of the puzzle cracking through him, the bed frame tight in his hands once more.

Though a nagging sensation, a cold shiver of doubt that eclipsed the ice prickling at his flesh, tore down the illusion as he gripped harder and harder at the cool metal beneath his fingers.

If he was in bed, hands clutched around the frame, why did it feel like he was already standing?

"Just... one... more... wait, what? One more what?" 

The dream evaporated as his eyes opened, half lidded and confused, a blinking mess as his eyelids felt like bricks, weighed down by the waking hours he'd been forcing upon himself recently. The view ahead did nothing for his bemusement, his eyes adjusting to the shimmering stars above and the vast open sea as far as his gaze could see. Everything was dark and quiet, the waves a smooth gush of sound that relaxed his senses. That is until the wind assaulted him once more, whipping through his hair and clothes as if trying to find purchase to bite and burrow into the skin below. His breath iced out of him in a shuddering gasp as he went to wrap his arms around him and found them held tight to blistering cold metal.

He scrunched his eyes and nose up, shaking his head as he tried desperately to fathom the entirety of the situation he had found himself in and let the cold push away the fog that hung like a solid curtain behind his retinas, stopping his senses from fully processing what has going on around him.

"What am I-? What am I doing outside?"

Stan gripped tighter to the railing, the start of worry slipping through as he realised where exactly he was, the cold metal beneath his fingers as familiar as it was panic inducing.

It had been a long time since he last sleepwalked. 

He licked his lips, casting his eyes down at the rocks below, the ones that he had dreamed about on many occasions, the ones the wisps and coaxing whispers tried to pull him towards when the light was on, a dim dull version of it's former self, and his brother had still not found his way home to him.

His eyes steeled as he glared at them, at the waves that crashed across them and left a bubbling seething hate in his chest instead of their usual twisted charm.

_No. Not tonight. Tonight I'm going back in there and I will bring Sixer back if it's the last thing I do._    
_You have no hold over me, not tonight, not any night until he's home._

The lantern burst to life behind him, a satisfying vindication as the world below him vanished into darkness, the bright light eclipsing the view and leaving a victorious snarl in it's wake.

Only for a moment though.

Ice formed in a cloud ahead of him, a gust of pure fear expelling from his lungs as he finally, well and truly, woke up. His eyes widened as details slipped through the cracks in his mind, rushing in like the tide as the lights flickered on one by one.

Metal bit into his palms and his back, solid and unassuming. It glinted in his peripherals, silver and sparkling in the light as if the lantern was trying to tell him something, drawing his focus there instead of downwards.

The message was received, his heart stuttering to a halt in his throat.

There was nothing ahead of him but open air.

He was on the wrong side of the railing.

The world went dark again, blinding him at the sudden shift as the light cut off abruptly with a clattering clunk. It could have only been on for a few seconds, just enough time to give him a new perspective before it vanished again without a trace.

Its job down, its message received.

He had a feeling that he wouldn't be hearing his brother's voice whispering around the lantern room tonight.

But just this once, he found himself with far more immediate dangers occupying his thoughts.

All the slow seeping thoughts and fuzziness vanished in a frenzy of movement. His body took over, shutting down his brain from thinking or overthinking anything as he twisted around and propelled himself back on to the balcony proper, scrambling for any kind of purchase and leverage to dart back over in as little time as possible. It didn't matter why it happened or what had happened, not in that instance. All that mattered was getting himself back on solid ground with protection on all sides. His feet clattered onto the metal, the sound welcome and reassuring as he stumbled further and further from the edge.

His body went from frozen ice to jelly within an instant, hitting the glass wall of the lantern room with a sharp clang and sinking down to sit as far away from the balcony edge as his legs deemed fit to carry him. Part of him felt the need to continue moving, to force himself inside the lantern room and lock the door behind him. But with shaking hands and even more trembling legs he wasn't sure he'd make it. And the thought of falling now, even just falling into the room felt more than his heart could deal with right now.

No, better to wait out the storm, wait until the shaking had passed before trying to make himself move, wait until his teeth stopped chattering in a mix of cold and fear, arms wrapped around himself, holding on for dear life, scared that if he let go he might fall apart at the seams. He felt small and weak and  _vulnerable_. So tiny and insignificant that a gust of wind could blow him off the edge into the waters at any moment regardless of his efforts.

Dash him against the rocks, after all this time struggling so desperately hard to ignore their call...

A shuddering, warbling breath left him as he eyed up the balcony edge, his arms tightening around himself as he brought his knees in, making himself smaller as he pressed against the wall, wishing to meld through it without the need to get up and walk into the room.

The roar of the waves below, the echoing ire at having lost the prey it had been sure it was about to receive set his teeth on edge and his mouth opening, unable to continue listening to it without adding some noise himself. "F-Forgot the rules. That was dumb of me. No sleeping in the lighthouse if there's a chance of sleepwalking. You promised yourself that, years ago."

He knew why it had happened though, even if his mind reeled at the implications.

He hadn't been this out of it for so very long. Hadn't felt the tug of sleep so strong that he couldn't ignore it and power through for years.

And even on the worst nights, when he knew it was futile to ignore it, the incessant pull wasn't usually so demanding as to stop him from at least wobbling his way to the balcony door, locking it tightly before repeating the process with the door leading down from his office.

Just in case he sleepwalked, his mind still alert enough to know there was danger even as he succumbed and accepted the fact that, on some nights, sleep was the right thing to do to keep himself from burning out entirely.

He hadn't fallen asleep without deciding to do so in a very,  _very_  long time.

Even now he could remember that groggy spell in his life, foggy and heated and still as sparse as the memories were at the time. Blank spots of time, flickering in and out of consciousness without a choice in the matter. Feverish heat even in the dead of night, his shoulder burning in tandem with his pulse making it difficult to think straight even at the best of times. The days and weeks had melded together. Nothing mattered other than the fact his twin had recently vanished without a trace. He patched his burn up as best he could as quickly as he could, time was of the essence after all. What did it matter if he forgot to check on the wound now and again in the whole scheme of things? He'd had more important things to do, bigger things than himself. Rescuing his brother would always be higher on his list than healing or sleeping or eating. He managed, that's what he'd kept telling himself. He'd manage until his brother was home and then he'd think about those things properly again, but until then, they could wait just a little bit longer.

Just a little bit longer, just one more push and he'd have him back and then there'd be nothing to worry about.

And if another small part of him was actually revolted by the idea of staying in Ford's home, of eating his food and sleeping in what might as well be a strangers house- of breaking into his brother's home and using it as his own-

Well, that only strengthened his resolve even as he denied the thoughts entirely. He could rest and relax once Ford was home and welcomed him into it, or he'd be back on the road again crashing in his car, but either way the world would be back to normal and he wouldn't feel the need to hide in the dark spaces where no one could see him.

Wouldn't feel like his skin was crawling, as if something was watching him from the corner of every room as his footsteps echoed around an empty house that had no right to be empty.

It all came crashing down one night though. He blinked as he remembered, the phantom prickles of fear blossoming across his skin as he sat on the balcony, thoughts caught up in the last time he had gotten this bad.

Sure, he'd found himself out on the balcony many a time when he had been feverish, but he had joked and brushed it all aside then. Made assumptions and excuses that the cool night air felt good against his heated skin and that's why his body had migrated there.

...He'd never found himself on the other side of the balcony railing before though.

That was new.

The last time he'd gotten quite so close to danger he had woken up, one foot dangling above the long spiral staircase that traversed the entire lighthouse. He had already been moving forward as he awoke, his body shifting headfirst, with only a few seconds notice to grab at the railing beside him and fall against the wall hard enough to wind himself instead of suffering a more dire fate. He could still remember it. The sudden lurch of his stomach, his heart constricting in fear as the ground rose up to greet him. The solid steps beneath him and the white-knuckled grip of the banister in his fists, the jolt of the motion setting off tendrils of fire across his back and down his spine. He hadn't even cared about the pain, a small discomfort in the full scale of what could have happened as his eyes stayed glued to the last step he could see before it rounded the corner into pure darkness. The darkness had seemed to have substance that night, staring back at him, goading him, mocking him for what had almost happened.

He remembered sitting there for a long time, curled up against the wall as his mind circled with 'what ifs'. Those steps were lethal at the best of times and even while feverish and wobbly he had known that one misstep could be the end of him. He had taken precautions, pausing when he needed to, hanging onto the banister for dear life when his vision swirled and doubled. And all that careful planning could have gone up in smoke whilst he slept on unknowingly. What if he'd woken up a second later? What if he'd woken up halfway down the stairs, his momentum carrying him down the rest without a chance to stop himself from tumbling into the gloom?

...What if he had never woken up at all?

That was the night he gave up all his arguments. That was the night he vowed not to sleep in the lighthouse again, not unless he had made sure that his sleepwalking wouldn't put him in danger. That was the night he brushed aside his misgivings and set up camp in Ford's house, let himself sleep for the first night in weeks without shame and guilt clawing up from his core to shake him awake again.

That was the night he realised that looking after himself was necessary to getting Ford back.

He couldn't save his brother if he was dead.

And so a semblance of normality had returned, he drifted in and out of sleep, napping when and where he could so that his work of a night went without a hitch. Falling asleep in the lighthouse became less of an issue as the fever cooled and dissipated altogether, the burn healing under constant ministrations and routine check overs that he was finally allowing himself. 

Soon enough he'd chalked the midnight wanders, to various dangerous places, up to the fever dreams induced by an infected injury and brushed aside his misgivings and doubts that the sleepwalking was anything but normal.

So what if it had never been a habit of his before then? He had exhausted himself, stressed beyond belief and struggling to look after himself without any outside help. Of course his body had acted in strange ways. 

_Now though..._

Stan gulped as he sat on the balcony, feeling his legs slowly solidify as he let his heart settle back into its normal rhythm. Now it was a lot harder to think up excuses. Sure, maybe he'd been sleeping a lot less than he usually would. He had the Mystery Shack to look after and two whirlwinds of joy that were too full of questions for their own good to keep an eye on. It made getting his work at the lighthouse that much harder to get on with, his usual sleep patterns discarded to avoid awkward curious inquiries.

His routine had shifted, he groaned at the thought, scrubbing harshly at his face. He worked all day in the Mystery Shack, the few hours of sleep he'd usually get in the evening once the Shack was closed now were preoccupied with looking after the kids, making sure they were fast asleep before he made his journey up towards the lighthouse. Not that he minded the change in routine, he loved those kids even if he wouldn't say as much. But the last few weeks had made it clear what options he had to pick from.

Get much needed sleep or work on bringing his brother home of a night.

And if the last thirty years were anything to go by- well, it was more of a given than a choice.

He could sleep when he had him back.

But to have grown so weary to the extent that he had sleepwalked? That he had found himself on the other side of the railing, staring down at the roiling waves below without even realising it?

That he hadn't expected. He was slipping in an hour here or there to keep himself going, that used to be enough, used to keep him going when he was travelling on the road.

"I'm getting far too old for all this." The words left him in a self-deprecating chuckle.

What he wouldn't give to be done with all of this, to have succeeded and have him back and finally have the good night's sleep he'd have well and truly earned.

"No rest for the wicked." His head thudded back against the glass, a humourless smile on his face as he stared up at the sky, his eyes threatening to close again if he wasn't careful. The view was mesmerising to his tired gaze, indigo sky meeting mirrored water, stars scattering across both as far as the eye could see. 

His eyes hit the railing again in their languid shift across the sky, trailed to the tantalising edge that had caught his gaze before and held it as he contemplated. Now it filled him with dread, his stomach sinking with it, as his thoughts turned to just how close he'd come without any intention but for the life of him he didn't know why it concerned him so much.

It had been at the back of his mind for so long, why was it now when his body had almost succeeded on its own was he startled beyond belief?

_Why can't I stop myself from shaking-_

A small flickering of light distracted him from the thoughts, a flash of a spark in his peripheral.

His eyes snapped over to the Shack without a thought, his instincts to check the kids' bedroom window now ingrained over the long nights he'd sat up here trying not to get caught. He relaxed as the car headlights popped into view again, speeding away out of sight once more but the window kept his focus, keeping watch just in case he was wrong and there was a small figure watching when they should have been asleep. It wouldn't have been the first time, Stan's mouth curled upwards in fond exasperation. Dipper was far too curious for his own good, much like someone else he'd once known, raring for an adventure, excited to put the pieces of the puzzle together no matter what trouble it got him into it.

It was because of him that it was quite so difficult to get everything done around him, the bedroom light a beacon that both frustrated and amused the older man, wanting nothing more than to get on with his work but also vastly impressed by the boy's resolve to find out the mysteries that the bay contained.

And just like that, his eyes still locked to the window and his thoughts on the kids, the daunting realisation of it all hit him.

It sobered him instantly, a fizzling tingle of shame strumming through his entire being. Up until now it had just been him to look after, just himself to push through his limits and keep him moving even if it meant struggling elsewhere. But now? Now he had two kids to look after. What was he thinking? Letting himself get so exhausted that he'd almost left them behind to fend for themselves?

The thoughts of that light coming on made his face twist in disgust and despair. 

_What would Dipper have seen? What could he have witnessed if-? What would they have thought-_

"Stop it." Stan rubbed a hand beneath his glasses, waking up once more, weary but far more in control than he had been since this whole ordeal had started.

He stood slowly, struggling up with the aid of the wall until he could finally straighten up on his own. He gave another long exhale, letting all the worry and guilt breeze out of him in a gust of air. He'd been overthinking it all again, too busy needing to do everything he could, he'd forgotten all over again that he was no use to his brother dead.

He needed to sleep, he needed to rest.

He needed to look after the kids.

Even if it meant missing out a night or two, here and there, when it came to working on the lighthouse lantern.

Anything was better than a repeat of tonight, anything was better than the sobering 'what ifs' that now clogged up his mind.

_What if you hadn't woken? What if you'd let it happen? What would the kids do-_

He shook the thoughts away abruptly, his stomach sinking through the floor to scatter on the rocks below. The images were too much, his distraught Mabel, his broken Dipper. He couldn't be the cause of all that pain, he couldn't leave them to it, no matter how much he didn't care about what happened to him. They'd care. And even if they didn't, they needed him to look after them.

"Sorry, Ford, looks like I've got to cut tonight's work short. But I'll be back tomorrow, don't you worry about it."

Stan muttered to himself, a sense of finality taking over as the glass door swung shut behind him, the click of the lock a relieving tune as he stared back out at the view.

"I've just got to catch up on some sleep, that's all. Otherwise those kids are going to run rings round me." He grinned apologetically, turning, still with a slight wobble to his legs towards the staircase, back towards the twins and blessed sleep.

_Come on, just one more step..._

He fumbled for the banister as the words slipped through his mind once more, white knuckled grasp catching as he gulped and looked around him. His expression grew steely, his back straightening as nothing came into view, a dark grumble leaving him as he stomped his way down the steps.

"Yep. Definitely no more sleeping in the lighthouse."

 

**Author's Note:**

> AN: This was meant to be something short to go with the comic cause I had to write something but jusst like Ran, this got away from me XD  
> Go check out Ran’s art! It’s amazing ♥


End file.
